


Not so public displays of affection

by glim



Category: Merlin (BBC) RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-08
Updated: 2010-08-08
Packaged: 2017-10-11 00:03:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/106029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glim/pseuds/glim
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wherein Bradley thinks he's dying of French medieval plague and Colin looks after him anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not so public displays of affection

Peering out from the alcove where he'd concealed himself, Colin gave the sky above the courtyard an appraising look.

A cold, grey drizzle had started up early that day, turned to a steady a steady rain by mid-morning, and reverted back to the freezing drizzle by lunchtime. A couple hours later, they still had drizzle, but the heavy, dark clouds that loomed overhead seemed to threaten an afternoon of rain.

The mist of fog and freezing precipitation was better than rain for filming outdoors, but the way it seeped between layers of clothing, through hats and jumpers and anoraks, didn't make it feel any less drier than pouring rain. The insidious chill and damp had crept through the whole castle and left it shiverishly cold.

The courtyard, though, that was the worst. Whenever the wind picked up, it slapped you in the face with a spray of freezing rain; leaning against any of the walls just meant you'd feel the cold of the stones start to seep through your bones.

Colin tugged his anorak tighter over his chest and peered out again, praying for the rain to hold off until evening.

"Ah, there you are. I'd wondered where you'd escaped to after lunch." Katie sidled in next to Colin, and, like he did, avoided getting too close to the masonry, as she huddled into her own coat and fluffy scarf.

"Yeah, just thought I'd watch them go through this bit. Merlin walks in at the end. Or, um, runs in."

"With mad desperation? Searching for Arthur?"

Colin replied to Katie's smile and arched eyebrows with a laugh. "Something like that."

They both watched quietly for a few minutes, Katie looking like she was tracking the movements of the whole scene as it played out, and Colin…

Well. Colin was mostly watching Bradley and trying his best to be inconspicuous about it, though he suspected the tight frown on his face betrayed him.

"You seem to have developed a sudden, intense fondness for sword play."

"What? Oh, no, just… Bradley."

"Just Bradley." Katie nodded. She made a little, disappointed sound when the rain suddenly decided to rush down from the sky, splashing down around them and creating tiny puddles between the flagstones of the courtyard. "Is he all right?"

"Bradley?"

"Mm. He seemed off this morning. Distracted, maybe."

"I think he's just tired."

Katie hummed in her thoughtful, quiet way and tapped Colin on the arm with her script. "Do you have time for that read-through now?"

"Um, sure. In a few minutes?"

"I don't know why you want to stay out here. No, I do, but, really, Colin, it's freezing." She shivered into her scarf and tucked both arms, script and all, into her coat. "Come in soon, okay?"

"I will." A reassuring nod convinced Katie to leave and another slash of wind did its work to convince Colin he wouldn't be far behind.

Across the courtyard, Bradley raked rain and sweat-soaked hair out of his eyes and gave himself a shake. From far away, it was hard to discern how exhausted he really was, and if the tired hollowness he'd had around his eyes earlier in the day still lingered, or if it had worsened.

Colin hadn't lied to Katie – Bradley _was_ tired. He'd just omitted to reveal that it was the sore throat, runny nose, coughing thing he'd picked up somewhere a couple days ago that was stopping Bradley from getting enough sleep last night. Working in the rain and spending the day alternating between shivering and sweating probably wasn't helping matters, either.

What also wasn't helping: being cranky and in denial about getting ill, refusing to take cold medicine or even just throat sweets, and being snappish with everyone around him, including Colin. Who had seriously considered leaving Bradley to his cold-induced misery last night. But, by the time they'd returned to the hotel, he'd been so sniffly and miserable, that Colin ended up giving him a back rub and watching what Bradley had taken to calling Colin's Absurd French Television.

Predicting a similar end to the day today, Colin spared Bradley one more glance. He had that scene to go through with Katie, then he could head back to the trailer and see if that head cold was making Bradley any more wretched that he was letting on.

~

"You sound utterly wretched."

"What? Oh. _Thanks_. You're not very good at this whole make me feel like I'm not dying thing, are you?" Bradley frowned at the cup Colin tried to urge on him. "What is that?"

"I'm brilliant at it. And you're not dying, you just have a cold." Colin forced the cup into Bradley's hands, then rested his own hands over Bradley's for a moment when he noticed how cold they were. "Tea. Go on, drink. I put honey in it for you."

Bradley frowned again. "But you don't drink tea."

"Mm. No, but you do. It's good for your sore throat."

"I… all right." The dubious frown creased Bradley's face as he leaned in to take a small sip from the carrier mug and changed to wince of pain after he swallowed.

"Right. You're taking a paracetamol for that."

"M'fine."

"Sure you are. But you'll feel better for it. D'you feel feverish?"

Bradley twitched away from the hand Colin moved to rest against his forehead, coughed roughly against his shoulder, then sighed into the touch when Colin reached up to brush his fringe off his forehead. "That's sort of nice."

Colin kept on stroking his hair, damp with sweat from the combat scenes he'd been doing in the courtyard before, and briefly touched his hand to Bradley's forehead, then his cheek. He was just a little warm, maybe only running a slight temperature from his cold, if at all. The paracetamol would help, though, especially if Bradley refused to take anything else aside from painkillers and tea with honey and lemon. "Yeah? I think you like the attention."

That comment made him go bashful, and Bradley turned away from Colin for a few seconds. He shrugged and mumbled, "maybe, but just from you," in a quiet, hoarse voice that had Colin sitting down next to him.

"Maybe I don't mind fussing a bit." Bradley's shirt was also damp with sweat and Colin took to rubbing a warm, slow circle over Bradley's back to prevent him from getting chilled. Or tense, really, Colin thought, and rubbed more firmly between his shoulders. "You're finishing up around dinner time tonight, aren't you?"

"Yeah. It shouldn't be so bad."

"I'll be back later on. You should go to my room and sleep."

"Might do that."

Okay, that was too easy. Colin slid both his hands up Bradley's back to rub his shoulders. "You could also go to Health &amp; Safety when –"

"Don't fuss, Colin."

"I'm not."

"Except for the part where you definitely are."

"Um. Right, yeah. Just go get something. You're ill."

"_Fussy_." Bradley sort of curled himself around the tea for a second, until he had to cough, then clear his throat, then reach for the box of tissues Colin had put down next to him to blow his nose. Again. There'd been a lot of that since he got out of the chilly, damp air.

"Stubborn and ridiculous." Colin let out a huff of a sigh and dug his fingers into the knots in Bradley's shoulders. For all the ease with which he came to Colin's trailer to drink tea and get a back rub, and for all the quiet, shy moments when he'd tell Colin how poorly he was feeling from his cold, even indirectly, there were about a hundred more difficult moments when he couldn't bare to let anyone else on set know he'd taken ill. "You say you feel terrible, but you won't let yourself relax or take some medicine."

Which was completely ridiculous. It wasn't like Bradley would let his work suffer because of a head cold, or like anyone would ever accuse him of malingering, or of being unprofessional or weak or anything completely and utterly _ridiculous_ like that.

Colin slipped in close enough to bury his nose into Bradley's hair, breathing in the warm, slightly sweaty scent of his skin, and brushed a kiss against his neck. "I'll get it for you."

"What?"

"Medicine. And… and tissues and Strepcils or whatever they have here in France."

Bradley took a few slow sips of his tea and honey, lowered the cup, and turned to Colin. He held his gaze for a moment. Up close, he really looked tired and ill, enough so that when he finally gave a nod to accept the offer, Colin felt some of the tension of worry and anxiety inside him relax.

"French medicine? That might kill me before my plague does."

"I'll try and get you the non-absurdist sort."

"I – oh, h-hold on…" Bradley twisted away to bury his face in the crook of his elbow with a powerful sneeze, repeated the act two times over, and sniffled gratefully when Colin shoved a handful of tissues at him.

"Bless. You been doing that all afternoon?"

Bradley shook his head. A few minutes of snuffling and coughing came next, then he just drooped against Colin and held his tea in against his chest. He glanced up at Colin with a tiny, bleary smile when Colin brushed a kiss over the top of his and rested while Colin took to talking about his own day so far.

Either his cold was getting worse, or he really was tired out already, or the tea had some sort of secret mellowing effect that Colin needed to remember, for Bradley stayed close and relatively quiet during their break. Quiet for Bradley, anyway. Quiet, comfortable, and close enough that the ache in Colin's chest when Bradley get up at the end of the hour was just as much regret at letting him go as it was worry.

~

"I think you should google plague symptoms." Bradley peered over Colin's shoulder before resting his cheek against Colin's hoodie. His voice, roughed up with congestion, made the request sound more like a plea. "Just to check."

"You're not dying of plague," Colin reminded him for at least the fifth time that evening and continued reading his email. "Not even French medieval plague."

His retort cut off, Bradley just snuffled at Colin in reply. He'd been asleep when Colin had returned to the hotel, sprawled out on Colin's bed in track suit bottoms and a tee shirt, and hadn't been especially pleased when Colin had woken him up to give him more tea and cold medicine. But he'd really needed both, what with how badly his voice was shot from whatever dialogue scenes he'd pushed himself through today and with how incredibly stuffed-up he was getting. The sleep had been good for him, but it sounded like his cold had just flourished in those few hours.

"Might be. How would you know? Not a doctor..." Bradley's face pressed into Colin's shoulder and he snuffled harder, coughed, and kept nudging against Colin until Colin put an arm around him.

"No, m'not... Just like you're not a plague victim."

Bradley made this miserable sound in reply and tucked his face in against Colin's neck and shoulder. Which, really, even with how whingey he was from coming down ill, was sort of nice. On set, he'd been frustrated and impatient, mostly with himself, even after he'd has his tea and some fussing from Colin that afternoon. Apparently, he'd had to do one scene over and over again, had ended sneezing through one take, and was, predictably, harder one himself about it than any of the production team.

But exhaustion had taken off that edge. Now, he was more... Well. Needy, and pretty affectionate. More willing to droop against Colin without encouragement. Bradley curled in close, and felt really warm next to Colin, and had a tendency to stay there, at least until he had to blow his nose or really start coughing. Or the noisy sneezing. God. At least the cold meds would take care of the worst of all that.

Colin turned to nuzzle through Bradley's mussed hair. "C'mon, try and rest... I'm nearly done with email, then we can watch a movie, yeah?"

"Mm. Yeah. That'll, uh, be alright." Another little cough, then Bradley slid his hand into the front pocket of Colin's hoodie and snuggled himself in close and comfortable. "Did you email your mum?"

"I did. Why?"

"... tell her I'm dying?"

"Of massive head cold? Um. No."

"Probably be more sympathetic than the unnatural, cruel son she raised..."

"Who brought you tea? And those horrid blackcurrant lozenges you like? And listened to you go on about some scene you ruined and now the show will be ruined and –"

Bradley prodded Colin in the stomach through his pocket and kept on prodding until Colin moved the laptop aside to make more room for Bradley.

"I hate being ill," he said, softly, and hid his face against Colin's hoodie for a second.

"Really? Didn't notice…"

"I mean, I hate sounding wretched and people noticing, or … or noticing and _commenting_ and being weird. Or. I don't know. Hate it," he muttered and hid himself against Colin again with a snuffly little noise. "I feel awful."

Colin just let Bradley stay curled in tight while he put the _Star Wars_ dvd in the laptop so they could watch tangled up on the bed together like this, and stroked Bradley's hair off his forehead and kept on stroking it after he shifted so he could see the screen.

See, the thing was, Bradley probably didn't have plague. He probably didn't even have anything worse than a head cold and whatever fatigue came with it. He probably wasn't even ill enough to justify either his own whining here in private or Colin's constant, vague worry throughout the day. But he was Bradley, and Colin was used to his expansive sense of humor, his near overwhelming energy, and his fondness to wrestle Colin to the bed until they were both laughing and kissing and aroused.

Really, he was just used to Bradley.

So, he supposed he could get used to this, too, the worrying over him and wanting to look after him.

Twenty minutes into the film, Colin felt Bradley slump against him.

"You going to fall asleep on me?"

Bradley nodded. "Mmhmm… you're warm."

"Good. You do that, then."

And maybe he'd end up watching the rest of the movie on his own, but Colin could get used to this, too, the familiar comfort of Bradley falling asleep next to him when he needed to.


End file.
